It grows near. The time when everything (dinners, dishes, and diapers) falls away and I, having shed my skin, will fly through the high desert of Nevada on a bicycle covered in blue fur with sun and dust in my hair. This time I know how fast it will go.
D got her own breakfast today. She stumbled to the table, poured her cereal and milk, groggy from sleep while the others rocked in their chairs banging forks and spoons, and squealing like monkeys. Just yesterday D sat at this table in high chair.
People like me are distracted now. All thoughts lead back to Black Rock City, preparations, anticipation. Tent, water, shade. Reunion. This time I will be free of responsibility for five days.
I packed the family swim bag. Lessons begin this afternoon. Suits, sunscreen, towels. The six of us will be together in the water. D, striving to advance. Z, graceful as a seal twirling underwater. T, swinging from TC’s shoulders. Little D, clinging to my legs. This isn’t happenstance. This is my beautiful creation.
When the sun goes down the lights come up. My bike will flash through the darkness, its basket stocked with goggles, a thermal hat, and gifts for friends I’ve yet to meet. There will be music, dancing and flames stretching across the sky. At dawn I will free fall into the briefest, but deepest of sleeps only to awake and venture out again.
Z’s immunization records must be sent to the school. D is due for a teeth cleaning. The dog needs flea drops bad. A well-child appointment should be scheduled for the boys. Summer clothes are to be replaced with fall. I must organize my music lesson-plans as well as a new writing schedule with enough time to work on submissions.
My two most challenging endeavors are enduring the daily grind and enduring the high desert. They each possess immeasurable rewards. The two weren’t meant to co-exist; They are but a microcosm of the duality that defines me. Compromise doesn’t come naturally. So I blaze on, passionate mother of four, hunter and gatherer of words, determined to take myself further than I’ve gone before until the day when it all falls away and I emerge as one person, a single burner set free in the desert.
In the meantime, it’s only a dream. I scratch at a few submissions and figure out what to make for dinner tonight.